Skyrim Independence: Return of the Referendum
by long live the wilderness
Summary: Two Scots land in Skyrim at the most inopportune moment. What path will they choose and will it help or hinder? Watch them struggle through this world that they have only experienced before on computer screens, whilst realising that trying to save a nation is difficult when you hate your partner's guts. Rated M for language.


Val opened her eyes slowly and tried to focus on the world around her. The thick fog and swaying surface beneath her alerted her that something was not right. Desperately trying to force open her heavy eyelids, she felt a cold wind and realised with trepidation that she was outside.

That didn't make sense. She had gone to bed early last night, having finally finished her coursework for university. She was looking forward to the next few days being able to avoid humanity in general and read books for fun for the first time in years. She felt someone shuffle next to her and finally her eyes snapped completely open.

Immediately discerning that the swaying came from the cart she was apparently sitting in she took a moment to look around her. To her utter horror she recognised the two men sitting opposite her. They were less pixelated than every other time she had met them. More lifelike and solid. Oh god.

"Hey you, you're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush same as us and that thief over there," said Ralof in his deep voice, husky with exhaustion. The horse thief opened his mouth to reply, but Val ploughed right over the top of him.

"Nope," replied Val. "No no no no no. Absolutely not."

A groan sounded from next to her, distracting the three Nords sharing the cart with her. She shuffled towards who she knew to be Ulfric Stormcloak in order to peer at the fifth person in the cart.

"Tom?!"

Tom jerked awake at her shriek and glared blearily around him. "What? Val? Where am I?"

"You are in Skyrim, friend," answered Ralof slowly, as if to a frightened animal. "You got caught in an Imperial ambush whilst trying to cross the border."

"What?"

Ralof sighed. "You are in Skyrim."

Tom shook his head. "Nah, I heard you. Just it doesn't make any sense." His thick Scottish accent caused Ralof to cock his head to the side.

"Are you a Briton?" He asked.

"No, I'm a Scot. Val, is this some kind of stupid joke?" He turned on Val, eyes flaming. She shook her head, but was cut off from replying by Tom's exclamation of "Jesus Christ, you look like a wood elf. What the fuck have you done?!"

Val looked down at her hands. They were still small and slender, but tinged with the healthy dark olive colour that she connected to Mediterranean skin. Tom reached over with both his bound hands and tugged at her hair, his eyes wide. She gasped. It was no longer the short pixie cut she was used to, but pooling at her hips in loose curls the colour of blood. Snapping her eyes back to Tom she smirked. "Let me guess, you played mostly as a Nord?"

Tom's thick dark hair and bright green eyes remained. He had changed little other than having been bulked out by muscles that widened his already strong shoulders and arms. He glowered at Val through a rogue strand of his scruffy hair "Whatever got us into this mess, I swear it's your fault."

"Now that's unfair. What on earth could I have done to land us here?"

The guard driving the cart banged his fist on the board nearest Tom, making all of them jump. "Shut up back there."

Around Tom and Val, the Nords left ungagged went back to their conversations. Knowing what was to come, they both zoned out and looked around them. They watched the Thalmor speaking to General Tullius both vaguely amused by the repetition of the derisive comments they had heard so many times before. As the cart trundled jarringly into Helgen, Val could feel panic rising up to claw at her throat.

"Tom, what if they don't stick to the script? What if the dragon doesn't appear?"

Tom was trying very hard not to look ill. "It will be fine. It's been the same this far, right? What I want to know is how the hell I got stuck here with you, of all people."

"Do you think if we die, we'll wake up?"

"Nah."

"Thanks Tom." Val sighed, desperately pushing down the urge to scream as the cart rattled to a stop. She could hear the horse thief panicking out loud and praising the divines. She began counting to see if he could name all nine, but was disappointed when he stopped at the fifth. _No wonder you die_ , she thought sarcastically. _Not that I can remember them…_ She gulped and looked at the headsman. She did not like how this situation was panning out. Tom was muttering something under his breath as he jumped down from the cart, but all she caught was "- can't believe this sequence ever bored me -"

They watched together in trepidation as each of the Stormcloaks were called up to stand by the chopping block. There was a brief scuffle with the horse thief, then the Nord in Imperial armour reading the names stopped and stared at Tom and Val.

"And who are you?"

Tom stepped forward confidently. "Can I ask a question first?"

The Nord looked surprised by the request, but nodded. Tom drew to his full height and continued. "Were we caught leaving Skyrim or entering Skyrim?"

The Nord frowned. "Leaving. Why?"

"Since when has leaving Skyrim been a crime worthy of execution?"

Val, silently watching the conversation up until that moment, caught on to what Tom was trying to do and joined in. "We were trying to get back to Valenwood to meet my family."

Tom jerked his head in her direction without taking his eyes off the Nord in front of him. "My wife and I are expected in Valenwood in a few days. I promise you that the Bosmer embassy will not be happy about us being murdered. Don't involve us in your petty war."

The Imperial Captain chose that point to walk up. "Hadvar! What is taking so long?"

Hadvar glanced at her, then looked back at the odd pair. "They're not on the list, Captain."

"Forget the list, they go straight to the block."

Tom growled. "Neither your Emperor nor the Thalmor will approve of your decision, Imperial."

"We do not answer to the elves, Nord. Get to the block."

With a final glare, Tom turned and walked towards the block holding his head high. Val followed, noticing that Ulfric Stormcloak was watching them with unrestrained curiosity. That did not bode well.

When the first man was called to the block, Val sidled up as close to Tom as she could get without being on top of him. He glanced down at her, his lips curling up in a smirk. "I remember you being taller than this, Val," he whispered.

Val glowered up at him. "It's not my fault wood elves are small. And what was that about me being your wife?!" she hissed.

"I was trying to waste time." Tom looked up to the tower nervously. "We can only hope things go to plan."

Val flinched as blood from the beheading splattered her side. "This is so much more gruesome in real life."

"Calm down, we'll get out of this, darling."

"Don't call me darling."

"Next, the wood elf!" shouted the Captain. Val stiffened next to Tom, her face white. With a glance at her, Tom stepped in front of her.

"I'll go first."

The Captain huffed an impatient breath and began to reply when Val grabbed Tom's arm with both her bound hands. "Don't you fucking dare, you arse! I will walk up to that block and I will lay my head on it! After all, the dragon will be here soon. Don't go all _knight in shining armour_ on me now!"

A quiet chuckle broke the stunned silence. One of the Stormcloaks said, "dragons don't exist, you fools" just before an awful animalistic roar tore through the cold air. Val could see Ulfric watching them with interest from the corner of her eye.

Tom's lip curled back in a snarl. "I'm not letting you put yourself in danger whether or not the dragon is coming, idiot!" The ground shook around them as the silhouette of an enormous beast flew past the tower. Around them people were beginning to panic.

"Get to the block, wood elf, or my sword will go through your stomach!" yelled the Captain, trying to regain control of the situation.

Val shouldered past Tom, hissing "a dragon won't save me from her sword." Tom reached out to grab her, but she had already danced out of his reach. "When this is over, I am going to kill you!" he shouted after her. She smiled back at him, fear shining in her eyes. He watched her turn to look at the block and pull a face of disgust.

"You not going to at least throw a bucket of water over it before I put my head down? That's so unhygienic," she whinged. The Captain stuck a boot to her back with a growl and shoved her over.

"Finish this," she said to the headsman. "I'm sick of these two."

Tom breathed a sigh of relief when the hulking black shape of Alduin dropped onto the tower behind the headsman. For a moment his heart stopped as the tremors caused almost made the headsman's axe fall onto Val's exposed neck. Without waiting for Alduin to shout, he ran forward and started hauling Val to her feet. They watched the dragon's mouth open and hung onto each other to stare him down, hoping against hope that what they were expecting was all that would come.

They were right. Alduin's shout flung everyone back against the walls of Helgen, mangling the bodies of those who did not get out the way in time. Tom and Val were the only two who managed to stand their ground, braced against the force. When they felt the pressure lessening, they bolted towards the tower. Ralof was shouting for them to get through the door so that it could be shut.

In the entrance, the two stooped over to try and catch their breaths. Ralof had found a dagger and was cutting Ulfric loose. "Jarl Ulfric, what is that thing? Could the legends be true?"

Tom replied at the same time as the Jarl, an amused tone to his voice. "Legends don't burn down villages."

Val whacked him with her still bound wrists as the Jarl looked at Tom, his interest clearly growing. "Don't steal his thunder, you twat." Tom grinned wolfishly at her, enjoying her amusement. He could see the relief in the sag of her shoulders.

He turned to find Ulfric standing right in front of him and wondered if he was taller in this world that at home. He stood at least a head higher than everyone in the tower; Val used to come up to his shoulder, but the combination of their changed heights meant she now only just reached his chest. The Jarl cut him loose, allowing him to rub the rope burns on his wrists. He certainly didn't expect the next question however.

"So, tell me how you called the dragon, my friend." Jarl Ulfric looked at him with curiosity and what looked like greed sparking in his eyes. Val held her wrists out to the man to get her bind off too, but he ignored her. Tom huffed and reached for Val, angling himself away from the racist Stormcloak. Leader or not, he would not give someone who judged people by their skin colour the time of day. Val smiled gratefully and opened her mouth to thank him when the tower shook and a blast of fire entered the floor above. Everyone within cowered away from the heat before panicking and dashing outside or up the stairs as stones from the ceiling began to rain down on them. Tom had no time to untie Val and dragged her up the stairs with him.

"You first!" he shouted over the chaos around them. "Get to the inn!"

Val looked at him as if he were mad. "Not a chance in hell! This is not the game – just look at how far it is!"

"You can do it, Val."

"I'm short and scared of heights! _You_ fucking jump!"

Without another word, Tom swept Val over his shoulder and leapt. He could see Alduin coming round to make another pass at the tower and was not going to risk her getting them incinerated. He ran the length of the inn and jumped down to the floor below, ignoring his kicking and screaming bundle. Setting her down, he gave her a mockingly firm look, "get your arse over to Hadvar. We need to get out."

"Untie me first, you pillock," Val growled.

"No time! The inn is on fire and we don't know whether it will fall in real life. Pixels support flaming ceilings better than wooden columns."

He grabbed her hand and ran out the door, just as part of the ceiling collapsed. Val looked behind them in horror as the whole building they had been hiding in was suddenly engulfed in fire. _Thank god for pragmatic Glaswegians,_ she thought, betraying her Edinburgh roots.

~O~

They had a brief argument over whether to follow Hadvar or Ralof into the building. Whilst Tom had always followed the Stormcloak, Val thought that Imperial armour would give them an edge when it came to fighting their way out of Helgen. Tom relented at the thought of fighting giant spiders in substandard armour. He was not looking forward to facing those nightmares.

Inside the building, Tom finally untied Val's wrists and watched her bounce off to the chest which they knew held armour. Hadvar watched the pair in confusion, as if trying to figure out a difficult mathematical problem. A cry of dismay from the other side of the room made the two men wander over to Val to see what she had found. She held up the armour for the men to see. There was only one set and it was enormous next to the diminutive wood elf. With Tom's extra height it would fit him fairly well, but it had been clearly made for someone with a little more padding around the stomach. Tom sighed and took it from Val.

"Stay behind us and we'll pick up the first set we come across."

Val looked like she was about to argue, then nodded. She bounced off and found a sword, bringing it back to Tom as he struggled to strap on the heavy plated armour. "You'll need this. I'll pick up a bow as soon as I can."

"Sounds fair."

Tom stood up straight and took the sword from Val's hands. She was clearly trying to hold back giggles which made him glare down at her. He heard a chuckle from Hadvar and could not still his frustration. "What?"

"Well," giggled Val. "Let's say that the armour you're wearing was made for someone with a much larger waist."

Tom looked down and saw what she meant. He looked like a whale. The metal plating had been carefully shaped in order to accommodate someone's substantial beer belly. The effect made him look humungous and extremely unfit. He couldn't help the chuckle that left his lips. "Let's hope that our enemies will think that I'm incredibly slow then. Hopefully that will give us an edge." He rolled his shoulder backwards. "God this is uncomfortable though. The first forge we get to, we're making some armour that fits."

Val nodded with a smile on her face trying to lead the way out the door. Tom grabbed her and placed her behind him. "You don't have armour or a weapon, remember?"

Val huffed. "This is so unfair. I have to act as a damsel in need of saving, whilst you put holes into anyone we come across meaning their armour will be covered in blood." She pulled a face. "I'm going to be sticky and disgusting for the whole of this journey, aren't I? Yuck."

Hadvar interrupted their argument with a questioning tone. "Are you a noble in Valenwood, miss?"

Tom laughed at Val's horrified expression. "Nah, she's just fussy, mate."

"Shut up. You are the one without blood and punctures in your armour. I don't even have any!"

Tom frowned in thought. "I'll see what I can do, Val. Right now though, we need to move forward."

Hadvar grunted. "You're right. Let's move."

They moved through the tower swiftly, Val going through every barrel and chest she could find. Tom had to pick her up by the scruff of the neck multiple times as she threatened to shoot off in search of more treasure. She moaned that he was treating her like a toddler. Tom smirked and placed her behind him. "Your pockets are already bulging. That's enough."

"But there's two health potions in that barrel! At least let me get those."

"Right, but then that's enough."

Tom realised their mistake when Hadvar's eyes grew wider in fascination. "How did she know?"

"She's psychic," Tom grumbled sarcastically.

Hadvar frowned. "What's psychic mean?"

"It means that someone is a seer," yelled Val, her head inside a barrel.

Tom wondered if Hadvar's eyes would pop out of their sockets if he opened them any wider. Val rushed to catch up with them as they reached a metal gate. Through it Tom could see people moving, and ignored poor Hadvar to make sure Val was tucked behind the wall.

"Listen to me," Tom whispered to her. "If things go tits up, run and don't look back. I don't even know how to swing a sword and something tells me you've never picked up a bow in your life."

Val frowned at him. "You should know by now that I'm far too impulsive to not run in after you, should you get hurt."

"You think I'm a bastard."

"Aye, but that unfortunately hasn't stopped me from caring. No matter how hard I've tried."

Hadvar coughed. "Looks like there are Stormcloaks up ahead. Let's see if we can reason with them."

Tom rolled his eyes at Val, desperately trying to inject humour into the awful situation. "I wouldn't hold your breath," he muttered. Val hid her smirk with a hand. As Tom pulled the lever which would raise the gate, she grabbed his arm.

"Stay safe. Please"

Tom didn't have time to reply before a bloodcurdling shout in the room had him pushing Val back into the shadows. He filled the doorway with his wide frame in hopes that the Stormcloaks would not see her and held his sword in what he perceived as a 'ready' position.

He shouldn't have worried. The instant a Stormcloak came at him, he knew what to do. There was no flash, or sudden vision of enlightenment. One moment he was gripping his sword stiffly, the weight foreign to him, and the next he was calmly cutting down his enemies. He relaxed into battle as if he had been fighting all his life. With a confidence and ease he had certainly not had a moment ago, he disarmed his last opponent and pointed the sword at her neck.

"Yield."

The Stormcloak spat at him, but missed. Tom looked at her unimpressed. "Yield," he repeated, impatience clear in his tone.

"I'll never yield to a damn Imperial," she hissed.

"Then, since we are not Imperials, you might as well yield," came Val's reply. Tom could see her carefully stepping over the mutilated corpses, looking very nauseous. The Stormcloak gulped as Val came into view.

"You're the two who called the dragon."

Val looked up, startled. "I wouldn't give us that much credit! Just a lucky guess."

Hadvar caught the Stormcloak's attention. "She's a seer," he said in a conspiratorial tone. The Stormcloak gasped.

"There hasn't been a seer in Skyrim for centuries! I thought they were legends, like the dragons…" Her voice petered off when she realised what she had just said. Val was waving her arms around manically.

"I'm not a seer! I promise I'm not! Just a lucky guess!"

Hadvar clapped a brotherly hand onto her shoulder. "Do not worry, friend. Your secret is safe with me."

With that, Tom's patience was spent. He was still confused as to how he suddenly knew how to fight, and their knowledge of Skyrim was creating more drama than necessary. On top of everything, they were standing around, wasting time, when the tunnels further on may have already collapsed. "Are you going to yield or not?" he growled at the Stormcloak, pressing the sword closer to her throat.

The Stormcloak panicked. "I yield! I yield!" she squeaked.

"Will you refrain from arguing with the Imperial until we leave? Right now, escaping is more important."

The Stormcloak nodded, a terrified look in her eyes.

There was a crash in the distance. Tom grabbed Val off the ground where she was going through the dead men's pockets. He shushed her cry of "but I haven't even taken their armour yet!" They were running behind time. If the tunnel ahead of them was collapsing, that meant the gate could be blocked any minute.

They shot through the torture chamber, a confusion of Imperials and Stormcloaks following as it became clear that the group was focusing on leaving rather than fighting. Val snatched up the knapsack as she hurtled grumpily past in Tom's grip. The sight of lockpicks made her grin until Tom shoved her up against another wall.

"Stay here. I'm going to talk to the idiots through there."

That was when Val heard shouting and the clashing of weapons. She frowned. Wasn't there only meant to be Stormcloaks in this chamber if they had chosen to follow Hadvar? Maybe the script got confused in real life and everyone turned up at once?

She poked her head round the corner and saw utter confusion. Red and Blue armour covering bodies spattered in blood, littering the ground. The fight continued above the fallen. Tom wasn't going to get anywhere trying to calm them down. Val could feel the few people who had followed them gearing up to join the battle.

"STOP!"

A few fighters close to Tom flew backwards at the force of his shout. The cavern stood still, the last crashes of metal on metal ringing off the stone walls.

Tom stood in his ill-fitting armour, taking deep breaths to calm himself. When he spoke his voice was calm, but carried through the dank chamber.

"Are we really going to fight each other when a dragon is loose on Helgen? Do we not owe it to our families to warn them of its coming?"

He let that sink in before continuing. "You have a choice here. Either you stay and fight each other to death, or you go and protect the people and the country you love. This is not the time to fight."

Without another word he walked with confident strides back to Val's hiding place. A gasp went up as he pulled her up and walked the length of the cavern. Every pair of eyes followed their movements until they were almost out of sight. Val, of course, was unable to stay silent long.

"Will you stop staring, for god's sake! Are you coming or not?"

* * *

 **AN** **:** Hope you enjoyed learning some new British insults.


End file.
